


Better with Three

by orphan_account



Series: Better with Three [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: But still porn, Elephants did not endorse these additional tags, Fluff, M/M, Multi, New Relationship, Not the highlands, OT3, Porn, Smut, Threesome, all the porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is slowly working himself up to making a move on Sherlock, taking him away for a romantic weekend, only of course, things don't exactly go to plan. John's too uncertain, Sherlock gets impatient, Mycroft sends Lestrade to check up on them, and things go better than anyone could have imagined. (Except perhaps Sherlock, who seems a little too unsurprised by everything.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better with Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holesinthesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holesinthesky/gifts).



> I'm travelling at the moment, so I haven't been writing. When I complained to Holes that I missed writing, she nobly suggested that I write her some Sherlock/John/Lestrade OT3 fic, set in the West Highlands of Scotland (where I am currently!) except I got distracted with the first part, and neglected the second. Whoops! Hope you enjoy, my dear!

"I've been on a train with him for nine hours, it's your turn."

John opened the cabin door wider to pull a bemused Lestrade inside. Lestrade moved willingly into the cosy room, pulling off his coat and heading for the fire, wondering why he continued to be surprised by having his every move predicted by a Holmes. John closed the door behind them and took Lestrade's coat, shaking it out a bit before lying it beside his and Sherlock's own damp clothes.

"I'm not a child!" Sherlock called out from a room beyond. "I don't need to be coddled by you and I certainly don't need to be babysat by Mycroft's lackey!"

"He needs to be fed, and if you can get him to sleep, do," John continued, talking slightly too loudly and winking at Lestrade. "He napped a bit on the train, so don't be surprised if he won't settle."

"I'm not his lackey!" Lestrade called back. He looked at John. "Why aren't you more surprised I'm here?"

"I paid with Mycroft's card," John said easily. "I assume he sent you?"

Lestrade's mouth tightened slightly and he gave a reluctant nod. John rolled his eyes, shaking his head and giving Lestrade a look sympathy of sympathy as if to say, "Holmeses, what can you do with them?"

"Warm yourself up a bit," John said. "I'm just going to check on Sherlock."

John walked across to the bedroom, where Sherlock was stretched out diagonally across the large bed, a foot dangled over the edge, fingers steepled under his chin. His shoes and jacket had been dumped on a chair alongside a fresh set of pyjamas and a dressing gown. His shirt was untucked and half-unbuttoned, as though he had started to get undressed and grown bored or become distracted half-way through. He flicked his eyes over John.

"You don't seem upset by Lestrade's appearance," Sherlock commented. John reached a hand out to shove Sherlock's foot back onto the bed, wondering absently how the man could sprawl so effectively.

"It's fine," John said. "I'll get rid of him soon enough."

"Once he's fed me and made me take a nap?" Sherlock asked coolly, though there was a glint of mischief in his eye. John gave Sherlock's ankle a pinch.

"No, once I've had a chance to have a look around and made sure we're set for the next few days." John's thumb started rubbing absent circles into the arch of Sherlock's foot. "And I'm sure there'll be some choice words you want passed on to Mycroft."

"Oh Christ, is this meant to be a romantic getaway?" Lestrade asked, standing in the bedroom doorway, looking between Sherlock's disheveled sprawl and John's hand stroking Sherlock's foot.

"We're not dating," John said automatically, pulling his hand up sharply.

"No, you just rented a romantic wood cabin for the long weekend," Lestrade said, sounding amused. "Like good mates do. If it's not a romantic weekend, what's this about then? I assume there's some horrifically complicated murder you're going to try and solve, get arrested while doing so, and I'll have to save your stupid arses again?"

"Hopefully," Sherlock said, sitting up and taking interest. "Have you heard of any?"

"No," John said, starting to look uncomfortable. "We were just getting a bit... Cooped up. I thought it might be nice to go away for a bit."

Lestrade nodded. "Fair enough. Nice place, this."

He looked around the room and let out a startled, slightly choked laugh when his gaze fell on the open suitcase.

"If you're determined to keep your relationship secret," Lestrade said. "You might want to consider hiding the condoms when you have visitors.

"What?" John asked, looking over at the suitcase where there was indeed a box of condoms sitting for all to see. He gave Sherlock a panicked look. "I didn't pack condoms."

"No, I packed them," Sherlock said, sounding absurdly calm. "Lubricant too." 

John looked at him. "Why?"

"It was fairly obvious this trip was part of your long-winded and excessively complicated plan to seduce me," Sherlock said. John frowned. "Thus far you seemed to have missed how receptive I would be to this change in our relationship, so I assumed you wouldn't have packed anything useful, and I wasn't going to let your insistence on safe sex make the next three days dull."

"Receptive?" John repeated hopefully.

"God you two are hopeless," Lestrade said. "I'll just go call a taxi, try to avoid having sex before I've gone."

"No," Sherlock said. Lestrade paused in the doorway. "Stay."

"I can't actually find a murder for you to solve, Sherlock," Lestrade said. "And I think John might kill me if I did, the man's been eyeing off your bum for ages."

"No, stay for the sex," Sherlock said. 

"What?" Lestrade asked, sounding panicked and, strangely, a little guilty.

John glanced between Sherlock and Lestrade, forehead crinkling. "Sherlock, just so there's no confusion or punches thrown, do you want to explain what you are thinking?"

"It simply seems the ideal situation," Sherlock said. "The three of us, together. I can provide John with the dangerous life he craves, Lestrade lets me onto crime scenes, and John can listen to Lestrade complain."

"Right," John said. "You do realise that we can give those things to each other without there being sex involved?"

"And I don't complain that much!" Lestrade protested.

"I thought it was fairly obvious how the sex suited everyone," Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. "Lestrade and I are sexually compatible-"

"Hang on, what?" John asked, looking between them.

"About eighteen months before you were around, it was the first time the wife, ex-wife now I suppose, and I split up," Lestrade supplied. "There was a lot of alcohol involved."

"And you have been demonstrating growing levels evidence of attraction towards myself and Lestrade since you first met us," Sherlock continued, ignoring the interruption.

"That doesn't mean Greg wants to sleep with me," John pointed out. Lestrade couldn't help but notice John didn't deny being attracted to him.

"Why wouldn't Lestrade want to have sex with you?" Sherlock asked, bemused.

John laughed and gave Sherlock a shove, looking over at Lestrade, who, to his surprise, was looking a little abashed, but quite pleased.

"He's right, I'm afraid," Lestrade said.

"Of course I'm right," Sherlock said. "I'm always right. So we're all agreed on the sex?"

John gave an awkward half-laugh and Lestrade shrugged slightly scratched his neck, neither sure what to say, and they fell into a slightly tense silence. Sherlock gave a huff of impatience and stood up, moving to stand right in front of John, almost uncomfortably close. He leaned down, placed a hand on the back of John's head and pressed their faces together, an almost painful facsimile of a kiss that probably should have been the end of the excessive long dance of hinting, implying and suggestion they had been carrying on with.

But then John moved back slightly, tilting his head, wrapping his hands around Sherlock's hips and brought their lips together again, and suddenly John was _kissing Sherlock_. He'd thought about it too often for the action to be too unfamiliar or shocking, though of course the reality was much richer, rougher, more intense, less perfect, and yet somehow better than he could have imagined.

Sherlock was impatient and seemed to be kissing to prove a point, but John forced him to slow down, drawing out the action, savouring it, exploring what worked for the two of them. John's hands were sliding around to grip Sherlock's arse and Sherlock had just discovered how the judicious use of teeth could be used to elicit delicious little moans from John when Lestrade cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Should I, uh, just go then?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock pulled himself away from John to look at Lestrade and let out an annoyed sigh. He gave John a final, smacking kiss and disentangled them, turning to Lestrade. Apparently Sherlock had learned some finesse from kissing John, as he moved slowly across the room to crowd Lestrade against the door, bringing their mouths together smoothly, moving lips and teeth and tongue quite sensuously. Lestrade gripped Sherlock's hips, taken aback and he sagged a little when Sherlock released him.

"In front of the fire," Sherlock said. "There's associations with sex and romance you two probably buy into, and I see no reason to be cold."

Sherlock marched over to the suitcase, grabbed the condoms and lubricant, turned to the bed, pulled the blankets and pillows into his arms, and marched back out into the next room.

John and Lestrade looked at each other, enjoying shared expressions of "what had we got ourselves into?", not unlike the bemused and exasperated glances they shared at crime scenes when Sherlock was being particularly strange.

"Sherlock seems pretty keen," Lestrade said, sounding a bit too casual. "I don't think he's thought about anything beyond how it will suit him, though."

John shrugged. "Probably not. That doesn't mean it couldn't work. The three of us together makes a lot of sense."

"Have you though about this?" Lestrade asked, surprised and curious.

John gave him a quick, almost school boyish grin. "Define 'think about'. Does in the shower count?"

Lestrade gave a brief laugh, growing serious again quickly. "You really think this could work?"

John smiled softly and stepped forward, closing the gap between them, lifting his hands to smooth down Lestrade's damp and ruffled hair. Lestrade moved automatically to wrap his arms around John's waist, concerns slowly disappearing in the face of how easy this was, how naturally it came.

"Yeah, I think it could," John said. He pulled Lestrade down to kiss him and they moved against each other comfortably, without any of the fight for dominance and control there was with Sherlock. It was an easy give and take, finding and giving pleasure, enjoying how well they fit together. John's hands threaded into Lestrade's hair, pulling it just hard enough to make Lestrade bite his lip and groan. John grinned and suddenly the kissing heated up, became a more deliberate attempt to arouse. When Lestrade grabbed John's arse and shoved his thigh in between John's leg, allowing their erections to make themselves known, John pulled sharply back, panting slightly and tilted his head towards the living room, grinning.

"Still having doubts?" John asked. Lestrade rolled his eyes, pinched John's hip and walked out into living room, John following close behind. They stopped abruptly at the sight before them.

Sherlock had pulled the cushions from the sofa and armchairs, pilling them with the pillows and blankets from the bed to create a bizarre little nest on the rug in front of the fireplace, and was sprawled, stark naked, across the top of them, wanking lazily. He looked up at them in disapproval.

"I'm bored," he said. John ignored his moaning in favour of looking over Sherlock's very naked form, taking in the scars and bruises, the lean muscle, the sparse hair that stood out darkly against pale skin, feeling his arousal grow as he lingered on Sherlock's fingers leisurely stroking and pulling his long, swollen cock.

"For a bony, self-centred, annoying git, he's quite easy on the eyes," Lestrade said, interrupting John's ogling with a nudge. John shook himself slightly and glanced back up at Sherlock's face, relieved to see a smug smirk and it suddenly seemed very necessary to go over to him, stretch out along side him and pull him into a tender kiss. Sherlock softened beautifully under John, moulding himself easily to John's body. He grabbed the hand John was using to stroke Sherlock's cheek, and pushed it down until it rested on his cock. He covered John's hand with his own, using it to encourage touching and exploring.

Lestrade, enjoying the sight immensely, had just moved to relieve the pressure building in his trousers when Sherlock flapped an arm at him, pulling away from John's mouth for long enough to say,

"Come down here, there's enough room," Sherlock said. "My mouth is currently occupied, but I am not opposed to being kissed on the neck, and you can show John what he is doing wrong."

"Hey!" John protested. Sherlock turned and gave him a very soft kiss.

"You're doing fine," Sherlock said. "You can hardly be expected to become an expert in five minutes, even with my help."

"I'm flattered you think I will be an adequate teacher," Lestrade said, settling down on Sherlock's other side and starting to stroke lightly down Sherlock's chest. When Sherlock shivered at this, John looked down to see what Lestrade was doing, catching Lestrade's look of mischief. Lestrade repeated the light touch, dragging his fingertips across Sherlock's nipples, causing him to squirm. John grinned and immediately reduced the pressure of his own hold, moving his hand over Sherlock's penis with a loose fist, making him moan. Grinning, Lestrade and John stroked and tickled and brushed all over Sherlock, enjoying the squirming, wriggling and groaning it caused. Seeing how even Lestrade's light breaths on Sherlock's neck seemed to induce a response, John stopped kissing Sherlock and moved down to lick a stripe along Sherlock's side and then blew gently on the wet trail he left behind. Sherlock yelped at this and half-heartedly pushed John away.

"Come on now," Sherlock said crossly, wriggling impatiently and sounding slightly out of breath. "Between the two of you, I should be experiencing orgasm much faster than usual."

"When Sherlock said you two were sexually comparable," John started to say.

"Yeah," Lestrade said. "It basically meant I didn't smother him at any point."

They grinned at each other.

"Just a tip, though," Lestrade said. "You have to keep his mouth occupied or he won't stop complaining."

John laughed and sat up. "I can't help but notice we're still dressed."

"You two are really slowing the whole process down," Sherlock grumbled, releasing his hold on  
Lestrade and flopping back in amongst the pillows. Lestrade and John stripped efficiently, taking a few moments to appreciate the other, before John moved to sit next to Lestrade, pushing him back against the armchair and kissing him thoroughly, with slightly exaggerated noises of enjoyment.

"You are leaving me out," Sherlock huffed, sitting up and glaring at them. John shifted, throwing a leg over Lestrade and moved until he was straddling him, pressing their erections together, both of them moaning loudly in response.

"I'm getting bored!" Sherlock said, moving so he was closer to them, but neither John nor Lestrade paid him any attention. Sherlock growled, and shoved his shoulder in between their chests, pushing and shoving until he was squashed in between them, awkward, uncomfortable but satisfied when the noisy sounds of kissing stopped. Although he was less pleased when they were replaced by laughter, and the pressure was eased by John falling backwards in amusement.

"Sorry," Lestrade said with a grin. "Didn't notice you there."

Sherlock started to make a noise of disbelief but it, and what ever complaints were sure to follow, were swiftly muffled by Lestrade kissing him. Once John had calmed himself, he crawled over to kneel beside Sherlock and they started again in earnest. 

Where before they had teased him with light touches and hints of more, John and Lestrade now turned to Sherlock with intentions of overstimulation. John kissed and licked and bit down Sherlock's neck, across his collar bone, lingering mercilessly over his nipples, his hands moving continuously to rub, tickle and tease every inch of Sherlock he could reach. 

Any complaints Sherlock had about this treatment were silenced by Lestrade's insistent, thorough and rather filthy kisses, though he managed to let out a near continuous stream of moans and groans, shivering and shuddering at their ministrations. Lestrade worked over Sherlock's cock, moving down to play with his balls and even slid his hands under Sherlock to massage his bum and run fingers teasingly down his hole. When it became apparent that Sherlock would not last much longer, Lestrade grabbed one of John's hands and moved it down, so they could finish him off together. 

Once Sherlock finished shuddering through his orgasm, he sank into the cushions, limp and wrung out. John cleaned him off with some convenient pants, enjoying the way Sherlock moved into every touch, content and sleepy. Although he was less amused when Sherlock tried to pull John down to be spooned, closing his eyes and making no move to deal with either John or Lestrade's erections. 

"I forgot he conked out after an orgasm," Lestrade said apologetically. John rolled his eyes.

"Never mind, I'm sure we can manage between ourselves," John said. 

"Yes, and be quick about it," Sherlock muttered sleepily. "I'm getting cold and tired down here."

Lestrade held out an arm and John crawled over and straddled him again, kissing him slowly, just enjoying the sensations of their bodies pressed together, rocking his hips so their cocks slid against each other with enough pressure to be quite pleasant, hinting at something more, but nothing that needed to be dealt with urgently. Lestrade's hands rubbed up and down John's back, lifting his hips to grind himself against John occasionally, but finding equal pleasure in drawing out their pleasure, letting the sensations grow and build up slowly.

Of course, not five minutes later, Sherlock let out an annoyed groan.

"Are you two going to take all night?" Sherlock demanded, sitting up and reaching over to shove Lestrade and John apart. Curious about what Sherlock was going to do, they let him, separating easily.

Sherlock sighed and shoved a hand down to grasp Lestrade's erection. He moved quickly over Lestrade's cock, quickly but not roughly, nimble fingers moving unerringly to twist and flick and tease expertly. Sherlock leaned in to John, letting his voice turn rough and deep as he whispered filthy thoughts into John's ear, and tugged at John's erection. John came first with a gasp he huffed into Sherlock's mouth, kissing him perhaps a bit too desperately. Lestrade followed soon after, groaning appreciatively and allowing Sherlock to push him until he was lying down. Sherlock pulled John down with him as he plastered himself almost on top of Lestrade and forcing John to lie similarly almost on top of Sherlock, so Sherlock found himself sandwiched snugly between the two men.

"Clearly in future I will have to let you two get on with it first," Sherlock grumbled, cuddling in closer to Lestrade, and reaching back to pull John in. They settled into a comfortable silence, too early in the day for any of them to fall asleep, but content to lie there wrapped up together.

"It's hard to imagine doing this in London," Lestrade mused. Sherlock's grip on Lestrade's waist briefly tightened to almost painful degree. Lestrade ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair, saying "I'm sure I'll get used to it soon enough," and Sherlock relaxed again.

"Might have to stick to a bed though," John said. "Christ knows what's on our floors."

"Lestrade can vacuum," Sherlock said. "He's very domestic."

"Thanks, Sherlock," Lestrade said dryly.

"So that's your plan, is it? Lestrade will clean and let you onto crime scenes, I'll cook and save you from villains," John said. "What do we get in return?"

"I think I just proved I was better at sex than you two," Sherlock said. "You'd never get anywhere without me."

"Right, sure," John said, pressing an amused and indulgent kiss into Sherlock's hair. They fell into a sleepy silence once more, before a thought struck Lestrade.

"You don't expect me to move in with you when we get back?" Lestrade asked.

"No of course not," John said at the same time Sherlock went, "Obviously, why wouldn't you?"

"Not right away, at least," John said. "Maybe in a few months, see what you think then."

"A few months?" Sherlock said. "Why must you two be so insufferably slow? Why would Lestrade want to be where the sex isn't happening?"

"We'd go to his place sometimes," John said. The he frowned and reached a hand around to clasp Lestrade. "You wouldn't mind- would it be a problem if Sherlock and I slept together without you?"

"No, I assumed you would. I'm a bit too busy to come running every time one of you is in the mood," Lestrade said. He shrugged. "I'd find it a bit weird if you didn't, to be honest."

"Good," John said, nodding. He rubbed his other hand up Sherlock's hip. "For my part I don't mind if you and Sherlock sleep together without me. Sherlock, do you mind if Greg and I had sex together without you there?"

"John what are you carrying on about?" Sherlock said.

"We're having a serious relationship talk," John said. "A short one now to avoid a long and potentially angry one later."

"Of course I don't mind if you and Lestrade sleep together," Sherlock said, sounding as though he thought John was very thick. "That's half of the appeal. I'll hardly want to be having sex when I have a really interesting case, and I certainly don't want you whinging to me about going without."

John gave Sherlock's hip a sharp pinch. "Git."

"You know, I think this might just work," Lestrade said slowly.

"Provided we don't kill Sherlock," John amended.

"If you must, at least don't be boring," Sherlock said. "Although I suppose the polyamory aspect is a bit different, so you might throw the idiots at the yard off for a while."

"Don't tempt us."


End file.
